


Mist8kes

by gossameryChronicler



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Mind Control, Mindwiping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossameryChronicler/pseuds/gossameryChronicler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sadstuck double feature, presented in eye popping second person and from two different points of view (one per chapter). Critics rave "This s*** certainly is depressing" and "Wow f*** you dude".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Vriska Serket. You've just stumbled upon your moirail meddling in your room. While this should not be surprising, seeing her fingers gripping your most prized and private journal really struck a chord with you. It struck you so hard, in fact, that you have slammed her head into your dresser. She stands before you, disoriented from the blow and bleeding, her eyes staring at you unfocused.

"Sh8t up!!!!!!!! I'm g8nna m8ke sure you never meddle again!" Your voice quivers with a mixture of malice and uncertainty. Your fingertips hover over your forehead, brow furrowing as you concentrate. Your mind reels, clouding up, losing any coherent line of thought as you sift through the thousands of consciousnesses around you. You try to drown them out, ignore the plebeians flooding your head with useless idiocy, and reach out for that shining jade diamond in the rough, radiating anxiety and fear. Your mind shunts out all other thoughts as you grasp it, forcing yourself into her head, prying into the bastion of her deepest secrets in some cruel and twisted irony.

Her mind screams at you, tries to force you out as your grip tightens. One by one the voices are silenced, crushed beneath the power of your mind, until even the tiniest pocket of resistance is squelched, flattened into a clean slab of clay for you to mold. The spark of intelligence in her eyes dims as you assume control, washing away all traces of fear as she slumps against the wall.

“Now kneel for me! Tell me you 8dore me, tell me worship me!” You twist the clay into a thick spire, that forced adoration becoming the central pillar of her thoughts. Her body jerks as your commands are set in motion, sinking awkwardly to the ground and casting that dull gaze towards her controller. Her lips part, hanging there for a single moment, before a wretched effigy of her once beautiful voice replies.

“I Adore You And Worship You, Vriska. You Are Everything To Me.”

Your blue painted lips split into a terrible grin at that, spurring you on in your remodeling. “You’ll serve me, and you’ll pr8ise me, and you’ll support me, and…” you rattle the list off to the jade-blood as eight spindly legs begin to string her thoughts into an intricate web, weaving in every command and clause you can think of. “…and you’ll tell me everything I w8nt to hear, just the way I w8nt to hear it! Now s8y it, tell me you’ll 8lw8ys 8e mine, tell me I own you!”

“I Will Always Be Yours, Vriska. You Own Me” she parrots, her voice weak and lifeless, as though played in a long worn phonograph. She stares at you, gaze unwavering as she awaits your next command. A perfect puppet, your own doll to play with, to mimic your every whim. You’re pathetic, Serket.

You wince, trying to shake the thought from your head. “Kanaya, tell me I’m powerful. Tell me I’m the strongest, tell me I’m 8e8utiful, tell me I’m 8etter than 8anyone else!” She tells you everything you want to hear, just the way you loathe to hear it. Her words are hollow, meaningless. You’re worthless, Serket. You can’t even make a convincing replica.

Your concentration wavers, a blue tear wells up in your eye and plummets from your cheek, splashing on your puppet’s forehead. “Stand up, Kanaya. Stand up and look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not path8tic, tell me I’m not worthless, tell me I’m not wr8ng!” She stands just as you asked, like clockwork. Her lips and tongue go through the motions, but that blank, uncaring stare tells you all you need to know. You’re just talking to yourself, pulling the strings and throwing your voice. Why do you try so hard to deny it?

Your breath catches, tears flowing freely now. Who cares if you cry now? Who’s there to see? She won’t judge you, she won’t ridicule you, or comfort you, or hold you. Not unless you command it. “Tell me this is re8lly you, Kanaya, tell me this is re8lly how you feel!!!!!!!!”

“This Is Really Me, Vriska, This Is Really How I Feel.” Not a word you wanted to hear, not the way you wanted to hear it. Not at all. You scream at her, grab her shoulders and shake her with all of your might. You tear down the strings and smash the pillar, whipping the pieces about in a frenzy. Her body crumples against you, eyes shimmering in the light like glass; reflecting, but projecting no light of their own. You scramble around in her head, trying to pick up the pieces, scooping up all you can find to rebuild and make her what she used to be, but all you’re left with is useless sludge. It slips between your fingers and dribbles into puddles on the ground, unable to hold its own shape any longer.

You fall to your knees, and she falls with you, sprawled across your lap.You cup her cheeks with trembling hands, pull her head to your chest. “Kanaya? Please tell me you’re ok8y. Tell me you’re not 8roken.” No more echo, not even a whisper. Just silence. She’s not even a puppet anymore, just a shell. A beautiful, breathing, lifeless shell. Your eyes go wide as the horror of your own actions sets in. You broke her, Serket. You shouldn’t play so rough with your toys. Not the ones you really care about. Not the ones you love.

You cradle her in your lap and begin to rock her in your arms, breath catching and quivering as you whisper to yourself. “I’m Ok8y, Vriska. You Can’t 8re8k Me That Easily, I’m Not That Fr8gile. Right? Right????????”


	2. Chapter 2

You shouldn't have pushed her, Maryam, what were you thinking? You knew she was volatile, why would rummaging through her stuff be a good idea? She stands in the doorway, glaring daggers at you and clenching her hands into steadily tighter fists. You draw yourself in tighter, trying feebly to hide your meddling from her, but it's obvious she has already seen.

"Wh8t... are you doing, Kanaya?" she growls through clenched teeth, taking a step forward.

"Oh Vriska, I-I Was Just Examining Your Respiteblock, And This Journal Caught My Eye And I Suppose My Curiosity Got The Better Of Me" you glance away nervously and adjust your shirt collar.

"C8ught your eye? Got the 8est of you? I invite you over and you just t8ke th8t as some kind of invit8tion to meddle around in my stuff? And look through my secr8t di8ry and then lie to me a8out it????????" She sounds ready to scream, and her face has begun to flush blue.

"Oh Come On Now You Are Just Being Melodramatic." You quickly realize that you've just described Vriska on any given day. You flinch as she steps forward, and quickly scramble to your feet as she lunges forward.

"F8ck you, Maryam! I wanted you to help me, not kick y8ur meddling into m8ximum overdr8ve!" she yells at you and tears her fingers into your hair, gripping like a vise as she holds you still before her.

"Vriska, You Are Hurting Me. Please, I Only Perused A Few Pages, I Swear I Didn't See Anything Compromising!" You struggle in her grasp, and despite its firmness she seems to have difficulty holding on.. Taking note of this, she slams your head into her nightstand, drawing a small stream of jade blood from the side of your head and sending you stumbling backwards. You grab your head and try to steady yourself, but you're seeing double, making Vriska look even more spider-like as she raises her arms to her forehead.

"Sh8t up!!!!!!!! I'm g8nna m8ke sure you never meddle again!" she screams at you, voice amplified by the throbbing pain in the side of your head. You raise your hand and open your mouth to respond, but feel yourself cut short as something forces its way into your mind.

You feel your every thought stifled as a cerulean spider crawls across your mind and eclipses your more complex faculties. Its legs slam into your consciousness and slice into the subconscious. It begins to draw out its thin, white webbing, weaving each strand through the holes and seizing control of your motor functions. Your body stiffens, every muscle tensing and allowing the spider's weave to sew its way into them. Your eyes go wide and your breathing quickens as full blown panic sets in; you can almost hear your cardiovascular pump shift into high gear, beating faster and faster with each inch of musculature that falls under her control.

“Now kneel for me! Tell me you 8dore me, tell me worship me!” she orders. Your muscles scream in pain as they feel themselves pulled in two different directions, and your body quickly gives in as the feeling grows too intense to bear; you fall to your knees before her with a loud crack, a much more sharp pain shooting through your leg as your ankle twists and snaps from the sudden pressure and motion. You try to cry out, but your throat constricts and blocks the scream , smoothing it out into an unnatural mimicry of your voice.

“I Adore You And Worship You, Vriska. You Are Everything To Me.”

She grins. How can she be grinning? Doesn't she know what she's doing to you? You want to scream at her, you try to force yourself to cry out and tell her "Vriska, You Are Breaking Me", but the words refuse to form. Each thought of resistance is quickly crushed by the spider nestled in your brain, and quickly after uttering that forced phrase of adoration, a powerful tremor rips through your head. Your thoughts crumble around you, and you find your final bastion of free will buried beneath the rubble, smothered almost completely.

You beat your fists against the debris, but there is nothing and no one to save you. No other thoughts in your head to resist, just the deep seeded drive to keep some remnant of yourself alive within your own head. You may be a puppet, but if she would just let you go, just pull herself from your head, you might be okay.

You can hardly hear or feel what is happening to your body anymore. You simply watch from the small vantage point allowed to you as your body bends to her every whim, speaks every word she asks of it. How can she enjoy this? How could this possibly make her happy? You're not even yourself anymore.

Her grin fades as she realizes her mistake. Your heart sinks as a cerulean tear trails down her cheek. "Please Vriska, I Beg Of You, Let Me Go" you say inside your head. You wish you could resist, that you could break free of her and hold her and tell her "Everything Is Alright, You Didn't Break Me, I'm Not As Fragile As You May Think", and maybe she would see that you love her, and you worry for her, and that every word she made you say had been true.

But you can't. You simply aren't strong enough. You're just as delicate as you seem, and even the smallest shift could crush you for good and leave you an empty shell. Her sorrow turns to panic, and feel a small glimmer of hope as her control wavers. You begin to slowly drag your way out of the rubble, and gasp at the monolith built in the spider's name. Such fine craftsmanship, it might be flattering if you weren't so utterly terrified for your existence. You press your hand to the pillar, feel it begin to mold back into some semblance of rational, conscious thought, and utter a mental sigh of relief.

That relief is soon stripped from you as that spider slams back into your mind with a vengeance. Vriska screams and sobs at your shell of a body as her spider rips and slashes at its creation, sending the web and spire crashing down. You struggle to stay afloat as the once rigid thoughts slosh and swirl into a thin liquid, flooding your mind with broken incoherencies. The sludge tugs at you, tosses you about like a rag doll as it churns. You feel it pour into your mouth and flood into your lungs as you thrash, and that last manifestation of yourself begins to melt, joining the rest of your thoughts as a vacant slop. Your eyes grow dim as your consciousness fades into the mire. You never thought it'd end this way. Not over something so pointless and petty. The spider scrambles to gather you up, but there is nothing left to assemble; your mind goes dark, and your physical body shudders one last time before falling against Vriska in a vegetative heap.


End file.
